


"Let your hair down tonight"

by helia7



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Eurovision Y90, Gen, contestants from the Known World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:18:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9199088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helia7/pseuds/helia7
Summary: The Eurovision Song Contest can't be stopped by a mere apocalypse!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unlos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unlos/gifts), [laufey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laufey/gifts), [yuuago](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuuago/gifts).




	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain young cleanser is listening to the broadcast of the Eurovision Song Contest of Y90.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely comments on the picture were highly inspiring, so I made this little addition.
> 
> The story takes place probably in May Y90 - before the recruitment for the expedition to the Silent World.

_“...aaand this was the flawless performance of our own contestant, Elias Lindgren. This lad from Luleå sure knows how to entertain the audience! ‘Let down your hair tonight’ will be on the top of the charts in no time, don’t you think, Sven?”_

_“Yeah, you’re right, Lasse. The catchy melody and the easy-to-remember lyrics make it a real hit.  I might be a little biased, but this was the best song so far. I mean, Þórdís from Iceland was pretty good; her ballad was atmospheric, but the Norwegian duo…, well…”_

_“They were interesting though. You cannot hear songs about sea beasts every day.”_

_“Oh, - we have to tell this to our dear listeners - Elias is now down with the audience; all the teenage girls and boys are going crazy about him!”_

_“Well, not just the teenagers. It doesn’t hurt that the singer has exceptionally good looks. You have to admit, he has the most gorgeous hair we’ve ever seen!”_

 

Gorgeous hair… Emil sighed. How he wished to see this live! However, he should count himself lucky to be able to hear the broadcast on the radio. He could have been out in the fields or on boring patrol duty; instead, he was happily perched on a most uncomfortable chair in the corner of the canteen and harking to the rasping voices of the reporters. All the better seats – those closer to the old radio on the counter – were occupied by senior officers.

 

_“…and don’t forget to vote to your favourite performer. But please remember; only the votes in the official, blue envelopes – available in every post office – are accepted!”_

_“It’s a pity we can’t vote to our own contestant, but you can always persuade your foreign friends to send a blue envelope to their state broadcaster with the name of Elias in it’”_

Foreign friends... Who on Earth has foreign friends? Emil thought bitterly. He had only seen a couple of Norwegian hunters – from a distance – so far; and his chances were rather low to meet any other foreigner.

_“Let’s move to the next contestant; Majbritt M from Denmark is already on stage.”_

_“We know very little about this young lady; according to her bio, she grew up on a farm with many siblings, cousins and second cousins, but now she lives in Rønne and works as a teacher.”_

 

How lame. Emil grimaced.

 

_“…she’s wearing a plain red dress, maybe a bit too simple for an event like this.”_

_“It’s not really red, Sven, it’s more like brick colour.”_

_“No, I think it’s salmon then.”_

 

Oh, come on, you can’t even tell the colour of a dress?! “Useless broadcasters” Emil grumbled aloud. At his murmur one of the officers turned around. Emil wished he wouldn’t. He knew the man too well; he was the strictest commissar of the new recruits, with whom Emil had spent the worst part of his cleanser training.

“Hey Västerström, I didn’t know you were such a big fan of Eurovision!” the sturdy man laughed at him.

“No, I… I just don’t have anything better to do tonight” Emil said under his breath, trying to sink deeper in his chair.

But of course he was a big fan of the song contest! He was glued to the radio this time every year. As a child, he even dreamed of participating in it so he could become famous and beloved. The only problem was: he couldn’t sing.

“Leave him be,“ shouted someone from the far end “everybody loves Eurovision, even if they say otherwise!”

Agreeing laughter roared through the hall; and more and more people felt the need to add jokes and funny remarks on the matter. Emil wished they would stop; the Danish song was almost over.

 

_“I wonder what she’s singing about… I can’t decipher Danish…”_

_“It’s about the beautiful trees of Bornholm. I only know this from the official brochure.”_

_“Well, her show was kind of mediocre; she just stood there clinging to the microphone. And this is typically a song you forget in a few days.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. She won’t be able to beat our Elias for sure.”_

_“Majbritt doesn’t seem to be too happy about her performance either. Or is she annoyed by the sight of the last competitors?”_

_“I would definitely freak out if I had to stay so close to those guys…”_

_“Because dear radio audience, we came to the last performance in the Eurovision Song Contest of year 90; the Finnish band is now rearranging the stage. They look a bit odd in those big fur coats, and… urgh, is that a skull on the head of that guy?”_

_“Yes, it certainly is. And the other one is sporting antlers… the third one looks weird too.”_

_“They came from Pori – they’re the first contestants from there, I think; that settlement was never really on the map of music, right?”_

_“Yeah. The name of the band is… uh… Revontil… Revontulivi… You read it, Lasse!”_

_“Re-von-tu-li-vy-ö-hy-ke. Huh. And they are said to be_ mages _.”_

_“Mages… Really, Finland should stop this nonsense; calling their competitors_ mages _every other year. Like magic was real or something.”_

_“Do you remember that band a few years back? Metal Mages or what was their name, they were outright ridiculous.”_

_“But they_ did _win the contest that year.”_

_“How could I forget that?!  I had to broadcast from Saimaa the following year; my worst job! And the Icelanders barely found a singer who was willing to travel to that dangerous place.”_

_“Speaking of Icelanders; I recall a scandal from the seventies when the Norwegians accused the Icelandic performer of influencing the audience with magic through the decorations on his coat.”_

_“Idiocy.”_

_“Yes. Fortunately the Danish organisers had the sense to dismiss their complaint.”_

_“Oh, they’re starting. Finally.”_

 

Emil expected something loud and eerie, but the song started with calm tunes on some stringy instruments instead. Their sound was exotic, yet soothing; he felt a chill run up his spine.

 

_“…two of them are playing the kantele, but what is the third one doing?”_

_“Oh, look! A bright thing has appeared in the background! It looks like a giant…bird. A pheasant maybe? Or is it a goose?”_

_“Now that’s what I call cool special effects! Almost like magic. Hehe.”_

 

Emil sighed. It was too bad he couldn’t see what was going on, but attending the live show of the Eurovision was the privilege of the rich. He clenched his fist.

 

_“That was it, ladies and gentlemen, the closing performance of this year’s song contest. We only have to wait a little more than a month to know who the winner is and in which country the next contest will be held.”_

_“Let’s repeat, how you can vote for your fav..”_

 

The radio got switched off.

“Hey!” “No!” a sudden ruckus started in the room. “The broadcast is not over yet!”

“The canteen is closed, go to bed!” an annoyed voice came from the other side of counter. Some of the officers tried to argue, but Emil decided it was better to retreat to his own quarters.

It was a good programme, he told himself. He was rooting for the Swedish competitor, of course, but strangely, the tune that struck in his head – even when he was lying in his bed, trying to fall asleep – was the Finnish song. But mages? What nonsense. Magic existed only in fairy tales, everybody knew that.

But why didn’t they try to expose them; ask those so called mages to prove they can do magic? I will definitely do that, if I ever meet one...

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't pick just one person, who requested this topic. I hope the recipients don't mind sharing this silliness :)


End file.
